


On The Beach

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-10
Updated: 2004-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7094884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gentle vignette of two men relaxing on the seashore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Beach

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

On The Beach  
By Poodle~

 

The sun’s final rays slipped over the horizon, casting its golden fingers across the waves lapping toward the shore. The waters stretched upon the beach almost reaching Wesley’s feet where he sat, arms draped casually over his up drawn legs, watching the day’s demise.

“It’s peaceful here.”

The voice beyond his left shoulder drew his attention and he turned toward the tall silhouette of a man who moved down the beach to join him. 

Wesley nodded then turned back to the waters, closing his eyes and feeling the rush of ocean breeze brush over his face.

“Funny how it’s the simple things you miss the most in life when you’re running from one apocalypse to another.” Angel commented as he moved to his side and sat on the sand, making himself comfortable beside the ex-watcher.

“Indeed. Saving the world does tend to take precedence over such things,” Wesley responded softly, still studying the steadily darkening horizon, purple bleeding into black. The water gently lapped the shore, drawing closer to their feet, leaving a trail of foam and a sprinkling of shells in its wake. On impulse, Wesley reached out and gathered a few in his hand. Turning them, he studied their delicate patterns. “Fascinating.”

Angel leaned near and brushed past his shoulder, reaching for a shell cupped in Wesley’s palm.

The sudden contact took him by surprise and Wesley pulled in his breath. Turning his eyes up, he studied his companion’s face as Angel, in turn, studied the shells resting in Wesley’s hand.

Shadows traced the lines of Angel’s face, the piercing eyes, the brooding brow, softening its usually somber appearance and making him appear almost rested in a way Wesley seldom recalled ever seeing him. Angel’s eyes turned up, met with his, and the moment paused.

The waves splashed, finally reaching their goal and soaking Wesley’s feet. He gave a start, tearing his eyes from Angel’s and instinctively drawing his feet from the water damping his shoes. A chuckle drew his attention and he looked up to see his companion regarding him with an amused expression on his face.

“Might as well take’um off, Wes.” 

With a huff, the ex-watcher caught the back of his shoe with his toe and slipped it off. The other quickly followed, then bending forward, he pulled off his socks, turned and tossed the lot farther up the beach into the dunes behind them. Stretching his feet toward the water, he watched it reach for his toes and he wiggled them into the wet sand, allowing it to wash over his feet.

“Now that’s a sight I never thought I’d see.” Angel chuckled as his shoes followed suit and promptly joined Wesley’s in a tangle in the gathering shadows behind them.

“When I was still quite young, years before my Watcher training claimed much of my youth, my mum and I used to frequent the beach. This brings back memories.” He sighed.

“Memories of your family?”

“Only my mum. Father couldn’t be bothered with such frivolities. After my training began he expressly forbid my mum to take me with her. She still went on holiday every year, but I’ve not been back since.”

“You never really talk much about your old man. Hell, you probably know more about mine than I do about yours. But it feels like I know him, since I met…well, you know…” His words faded into an uncomfortable silence.

“Yes…well.” Wesley cleared his throat. “That’s understandable. The Cyborg was a fairly accurate representation of father. If you’ll recall, it fooled even me. A proper son would have discerned the deception.”

Angel snorted lightly, then allowed a respectful silence to fall between them. The lull was claimed by the gentle splash of waves dancing over their feet.

Wesley closed his eyes and felt the spray of mist against his face, breathed deeply the lightly salted air and allowed himself the luxury of a smile.

“Have you been waiting here long?” 

Angel’s voice weaved into his thoughts and Wesley shook his head without opening his eyes. He could feel the deepening humidity of nightfall, could taste a hint of salt on his lips. 

“Maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so crazy if we took more time to connect.”

Pulled from his reverie, Wesley sighed and turned in his companion’s direction. “Now’s a fine time for you to become philosophical.” 

“Better late than never. Doyle was always telling me I needed to take a more active interest in the people around me.”

“Is that what this is? Taking an interest?” Wesley replied, a touch of dryness creeping into his tone.

“The way things went down…between us.” Angel continued hesitantly. “I regret that.”

“I take it, that’s an apology.”

He nodded and turned dark eyes toward the undulating waters stretching into the horizon. His face set in solemn lines of introspection.

“I stole your son. You stole my memories. Seems an equitable exchange to me. Let’s say we call it a draw.”

The two men fell silent, each absorbed in his own thoughts. They watched the darkened waters stretching into the distance, receding light glimmering on the waves rolling toward shore. The final hints of gold painted the underside of clouds hovering along the skyline. Dusk thickened around them where they sat on the sand.

“I’m sorry about…you know, Fred and all.”

The words spoken next to his ear took Wesley by surprise and he gave a start. A ripple of goosebumps rose across his neck, as much from the sudden nearness of his companion as from the words themselves. *Fred*. A stab of pain cut through his chest. “Yes,” he breathed. “She should have been here.” The words caught in his throat and he dropped his head.

“Wes?”

The brush of a hand against his cheek startled him, and he looked up. Shadows softened the eyes searching his face with concern. He pulled in his breath when he found he couldn’t look away from those eyes. Angel’s expression deepened and he leaned near, his hand still resting against the ex-watcher’s cheek. Wesley swallowed, tried to speak, but found the words wouldn’t come. His skin grew flushed beneath Angel’s touch and he started to pull away when Angel’s words caused him to pause.

“You’re right, Fred should have been here, and Cordy, too. But they aren’t.” His voice fell to a whisper. “We’re here…together.”

Wesley’s eyes passed slowly over the face he knew as intimately as his own, and finally he found his voice. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “We’re here…they are not.” In that instant, he knew his Winifred was eternally lost to him, but Angel was here. The whisper of the waves caressing the shore strummed his senses, and he trembled beneath the brush of the fingers against his cheek. Stunned by the intensity of his body’s reaction, he started to draw back when Angel leaned closer, and he was caught in his gaze.

“Wes, You know me well enough to know I’ve never been good at words. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Not the least of which, are the things I should have told you.”

“Angel, this really isn’t necessary.” The strength of his voice surprised him when he interrupted. “Neither of us can hardly claim to be blameless.”

“I’m not sure that blame’s the issue. But I should have been there for you. You, Cordy, the others, they were always there for me. Looking back, I realize that I was never there for you, not when you needed it the most.”

Wesley tried to drop his eyes but found that he couldn’t. “I’m rather accustomed to that,” he heard himself say as if from far away. It was true, he couldn’t remember a time when anyone was ‘there for him.’ “It is unlikely I would have opened up to you had you tried. A Wyndam-Pryce doesn’t wallow in self-pity.”

“Stiff upper lip and all that.” Angel chuckled softly.

The vibrations trembled through the hand resting against the ex-watcher’s cheek, and Wesley pulled in his breath, still lost in the depths of his companion’s eyes. “Angel, I hardly think…”

Angel bent to within a breath of Wesley’s lips and paused.

Wesley’s heart stilled in his chest. *This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.* After all these years…

He reached out and pressed his hand firmly against Angel’s chest, stopping him. 

Angel’s eyes opened wide. “Wes?”

He drew a ragged breath. “I won’t pretend this isn’t what I want,” he confessed. “What I’ve always wanted.”

A smile softened the serious lines of Angel’s face. “We’re here for a reason, Wes. The others aren’t. It’s finally come down to you and me.”

“True.” He breathed and his hand fell away from Angel’s chest, to rest lightly against his companion’s knee. “You and me.”

Angel turned and gazed into the tranquil waters then back to meet his eyes. “I don’t suppose you know what’s next?”

The ex-watcher shrugged.

“But you always have the answers.” 

“Not this time, Angel. I’m afraid these answers aren’t in any of my journals, prophecies or scrolls. We’re on our own.”

Angel shook his head and smiled. “We still have each other.” Again, he bent near to the ex-watcher’s lips, and this time he didn’t pull away.

“I won’t pretend I don’t still have issues with you,” Wesley murmured as he folded into the arms that drew him near to rest against a broad chest.

“We’ll talk…later. When I tell you about the dragon.”

“Dragon?” Wesley frowned, drawing back to stare into his face. 

“The one that got away.”

 

~*End


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